


Getting hard to know what's real

by airsalonpasandpettysquabbles



Category: Church (Short Film 2019)
Genre: All rights go to EmptyFeet's Church animatic on Youtube, F/M, I was inspired to write a bit about it, It's amazingly well done, It's short but meh, So I guess I have some words, i have no words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 13:46:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19152265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airsalonpasandpettysquabbles/pseuds/airsalonpasandpettysquabbles
Summary: Ashivon starts questioning and Sanga already reads between the lines. Together, they escape.Based on Toastyhat/EmptyFeet's Church animatic. Go watch it!





	Getting hard to know what's real

Ashivon was convinced he was in hell.

He was taken, abducted from his home and family, stripped of all his values and beliefs, doomed to be the church's slave.

The first predominant feature that caught his attention was the limp and bloodied corpse of the previous executioner. Of course, when he looked at the other demon, he didn't see an executioner. He saw himself. His friends. His family. The picture haunted him and weighed cautiously on his shoulders, a reminder of what happened if he didn't follow the rules.

But following the rules was easy when he was younger. He was naive enough to eat up the lies that were whispered in his ear before each match.  _They're all sinners._ And it was easy to believe when the prisoners came at him with broken smiles, their weapons seized and their pride newly fledged for battle. The crowd was tumultuous and Ashivon easily forgot that sometimes he could get carried away from the now meaningless sticky substance covering his hands, and could be swayed by the crowd. By the victory.

He was in the Coliseum. The Romans were the Church followers and the gladiators were the sinners. He was the lion. It was easy to forget that he was as much of a monster as the audience. The Romans, who, as civilized as they were on the streets, watched, blood-lust, as innocent people got tortured and called it entertainment. He too considered it all meaningless, after years of inevitable slaughter, and didn't stop to consider the purpose of it all.

When Ashivon realized he would have to kill a child—a mere  _boy_ —he hesitated. That was his downfall. He was immediately struck down to his knees, spears puncturing his flesh. The image of his predecessor came in mind as he collided with the ground. What did he do to deserve death? He didn't have time to delve more into the question, due to his collapsing vision.

* * *

Sanga wished things could've been different. She was wholeheartedly against the malevolent institution that was the Church, and only worked there herself because it was either her or her little brother. The men had come one day and opted to take her youngest brother. He was  _twelve_. She, however, was not going to let such a thing happen. So she volunteered to go in his place as a healer. She wouldn't see a child get tied down to a miserable life, slaving away for filthy, deceiving, conniving, greedy monsters. Yet, when she was told how old the executioners were when they began their jobs, she could not believe it.

Death. Delivering merciless death at such a young age. Brainwashed so they don't even know their moral compass is mislaid.  _They don't have a choice either_ , she reminded herself.

Then she was told of the sinners and what they had done to deserve such a punishment. Some were wrongly in love, others had problems they could not fix, while others simply did not find enough money to pay the Church.

Sanga wanted to run away from the veiled institution. This was theater, a murderous play. They were grim reapers playing the role of justice. It was unbearable to watch as a bystander. So when she saw the executioner hesitate to kill a child, she knew she had to do something. She knew she wasn't the only one who seemed shaken by the Church.

Thus began an unspoken agreement between them. She would practice her self-defense moves, ones she learned long ago, and see the executioner mirroring her movements ambitiously. Those sessions always gave her hope that they could escape. If they worked as a team, they  _would_  earn their freedom.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself while she was dragged to the purifying room. The slaughter room. Her friend's head was on the chopping block, his body tied up in tight-fitting magical cables that acted like chains. They had come this far, and it was all unraveling in front of their eyes.

She could see his struggle. Her eyes then narrowed. Struggle. Struggle meant distraction. Smart boy. It all happened so fast, but she managed to swipe an ax and cut her friend free.

The new executioner, another child, peered into the room to see what all the commotion and chaos was about. He was as frightened as they were, frankly, which probably helped his decision to defect with them. When they broke out, unbridled, into the starry night, they knew right away that they were liberated and emancipated from their previous titles.

* * *

Walking away from their previous lives, Ashivon turned back one last time, "We'll have to go back, one day, to stop them. And when that day comes, we will be stronger."

A new mission was formed, an oath to stop the folly that was the Church. They looked forward to bringing it down on its knees as they once were.


End file.
